


On the Topic of Skating

by EstaJay



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Basically a Yuri on Ice AU, alternate universe - figure skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 19:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10771179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EstaJay/pseuds/EstaJay
Summary: "Don’t lose sight of your goal."Jack had meant that as words of encouragement for the competitor he found crying in the restroom but Yuuri never showed for his performance. Jack thought of him as nothing more than another skater until a certain video goes viral.





	On the Topic of Skating

**Author's Note:**

> Names  
> Ivan is Russian for John which is where Jack comes from  
> Just using Katsuki for Yuuri's surname because I can't be bothered using Sakaki again

_“What really makes you happy?”_

_“Gold.”_

_Because gold meant winning and winning was all that mattered._

* * *

Ivan Viktorovich Atlus, or more commonly known as ‘Jack Atlas’, was the King. He was the most decorated figure skater in recent and most likely future history, the four-time consecutive gold medalist of the World Skating Grand Prix among many other titles. Despite being twenty-eight he was still going strong, maintaining the same flawless precision in each jump from his junior debut. Physically he had a long career ahead of him, his body had yet to betray its age, but…

It was his fifth Grand Prix and gold was practically guaranteed. Andre of Spain may have been slightly impressive with his technical work and Dragan of Sweden had been a challenging rival in the past, no one even came close to matching Jack in both skill and showmanship.

Skating was his passion and had been ever since he was a little boy starving on the streets of St. Petersburg yet the years of competitions had done what the harsh winds of Russia never could. Jack Atlas stood at the top of the world and he was bored. Things had become mundane, predictable and, dare he say it, boring.

(But he remembered, not too long ago, of another skater who made every gold worth the toil. Who made every win by a hair’s breath instead of a mile. Who disappeared from the competitive scene almost as abruptly as he appeared. Who Jack had searched for with the futility of catching stardust.)

This year though, might be different. From Japan came a young man with venom in his words and ice in his smile. A man who chilled Jack deeper than the coldest of winters. Off stage he was like an apparition, no one knowing anything other than his name and his country of origin. On ice, though, he was a predator. Cunning and swift with vicious precision. His short performance had left him in fourth place but that smirk as he glided off the rink spoke otherwise. He would land his decisive strike during his free performance, was the promise, and shatter the status quo that the skating world had been lulled into.

Which was why, just as the free performances were about to commence, Jack Atlas was caught off guard when he found the illusive Yuuri Katsuki crying in the restroom.

Jack had made no attempts to be subtle but Katsuki’s gaze had fell on him with alarming precision.

Despite his eyes being red, puffy and streaming with tears, Katsuki had managed to pull off the same chilling glare and cold smile he was known for.

“Pathetic, isn’t it?” Katsuki said in slightly accented English, voice being completely contrary to his current appearance. “Finding your opponent in tears before anything has actually happened.”

“It is conceited. A skater should face his audience as a knight faces a duel.” Was his reply but he doubted Katsuki, who skated with such purpose and control, would be so cowardly.  

Anxiety, maybe. Or, as Jack’s gaze fell on the white knuckles clasp against a mobile phone, something more. The media didn’t always sing its praises to everyone.

Jack could have said some false words of encouragement and left it at that, leaving Katuski alone to pick up the broken pieces of a shattered psyche, but that would mean possibly losing his first real challenge in years.

“For a cause, many sacrifices have to made and very rarely does the world understand.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened in surprise, his cold mask cracking slightly.

Jack continued. “Don’t lose sight of your goal. Be greedy, be selfish if you must but for that final pinnacle nothing is too great.”

And the King swept out of the restroom, not even turning to see what he had left in his wake. He knew his words would strengthen Katsuki’s conviction. It was what he had often told himself whenever he faltered in order to stay on top. If it costed him gold this year then so be it. The challenge and not the prize was what ignited the first spark.

But the free performances came and went and Jack Atlas was once again on his lonely throne at the top of the podium, bitter gold around his neck.

Yuuri Katsuki was nowhere to be seen, having fallen to last place after failing to show up to his free performance.

What the King had thought to be a worthy rival was simply another conceited fool.

* * *

At the banquet, Jack had found himself drawn into a conversation with the absent Katsuki’s drunken coach.

“That stupid brat!” Sanders slurred between long stretches on incoherent Japanese. “All that work, all that effort, for nothing! Foolish boy fleeing with his tail between his legs under the teeniest of pressure.”

Jack simply nodded in agreement. He knew the importance of appearances and would wait until he was back in the confines of cold apartment in Russia to consume an unholy amount of alcohol in ‘celebration’.

“If he wants to continue next season, or even finish this one, then he will have to find another coach!” Sanders declared, stumbling into several guests and a table before landing on Jack.

Jack tried to steady the man when he looked directly into his eyes. “Hey, why don’t you coach him? That boy could use a bit of Russian discipline.”  

Then Sanders promptly hurled on the King’s new dress shoes.

Jack had thought nothing of the conversation until a certain video went viral. _[Yuuri Katsuki] skates Jack Atlas’s [Believe in Nexus]_ had opened with a wall of Japanese text and voice over, which had promptly been skipped, but performance itself was simultaneously breathtaking and bone chilling. It was his choreography, yes, but Katsuki hadn’t simply copied it. The man had taken what was there and made it his own. The jumps that were muscle memory became horror movie jump scares and the intricate step sequences added made his heart race in anticipation. If this was what he had gone up against, the King would have been returning home with silver.

Yuuri Katsuki was a bloody diamond in the rough and Jack knew that this was where his next great adventure laid.

* * *

Jack Atlas declared his break from the competitive scene and intention to train Yuuri Katsuki over international television. This sent the media, fans and fellow skaters spiraling into utter pandemonium.

His coach though, had been surprisingly understanding.

“I have known for many years that you would drop your career for a Japanese skater, Vanya.” Goodwin said as he accompanied Jack to the airport. “But I wasn’t expecting that it would be this one.”

Jack felt a sinking pit grow in his stomach, old guilt and regret returning. “He left too suddenly. There was no way to contact him.”

“Yes but so did this one.” Goodwin said. “You never tried your luck at catching a shooting star so now you try to tame a wild thorn? You have called many others conceited but maybe it is you who is filled with conceit.”

* * *

 

Getting to Japan was easy. Finding Katsuki was ridiculously difficult.

There was almost no information regarding the Japanese skater’s personal life other than he came from a middle-of-nowhere town and had an interest in botany.

Their second meeting had been an accident as Jack tried to dodge the paparazzi in Tokyo. He sought refuge in a seedy bar where the lady bartender was constantly smirking at him. Jack had thought nothing of it until he found Katsuki dressed in purple and wrapped around a pole.  

“Found some fresh meat to take home, Yuuri?” the bartender said casually as a blushing Jack was straddled by his intended protege.

“Haven’t you heard Selena?” Katsuki purred, any hint of the insecurities from the Grand Prix completely absent. “This is my new coach.”

And maybe now Jack was thinking on the consequences of his impulsive decisions (and definitely not how he could get the other man in bed.)

* * *

 

Yuuri Katsuki was a figure skater by day, a pole dancer at night and an utter bastard and tease twenty-four-seven.

Not one practise session go by without the other man trying to grope Jack or trying to derail the focus to something more sexual.

“I came here to make you win gold.” Jack said as he tried to pry Katsuki’s limbs off him. “Not sleep with you.”

“But a night with a king would be gold digging.” Katsuki whispered in his ear.

“No.” Jack said firmly despite his body telling him otherwise. “I want to see that salchow again.”

The other man sighed and flopped off with the fluidity of a rag doll. “What’s the point? I doubt I could compete next season in this state. My innards will turn.”

“Your innards seem perfectly settled right now.”

Katsuki’s face twisted into a scowl. “That’s not the point.”

And then Katsuki left, making this session join a league of others in uselessness and inproductivity. It was another night of Jack being moments away from packing his bags and returning to Russia until his playlists of Katsuki’s previous performances start playing. All of them carried such vigour and passion that had completely disappeared from the man in person. Even the Katsuki weeping in the restroom carried more conviction than this concentration of vapid lust. Katsuki could, no would, be great. It would be ridiculously challenging but despite all the current frustrations, Jack was certain that it would be worth in the end.

(If he had to, Jack could use intercourse as an incentive. His little head certainly approved of the idea.)

* * *

 

Jack prided himself as being a man of his word but the maelstrom that was Yuuri Katsuki had...delayed a certain promise.

The Pheonix of Russia was entering the senior division this year. Though they had trained under different coaches, Jack had promised to choreograph his debut. The King had not forgotten, he was simply procrastinating.

Jack had expected the boy to be mad. He wasn’t expecting him to follow him all the way to Japan.

But the boy showed a dedication that his current protege severely lacked. Said protege was lounging across several benches with his skates unlaced when he should he practising his quads. Jack thought Katsuki might be eavesdropping but they were speaking in Russian.

“Ivan Viktorovich, you _promised.”_

“I haven’t forgotten, Edik Yurievich.”

“Then why are you here and not in Russia?!”

The boy looked ready to go into a wild rant when Katsuki interjected. “Edik Yurievich...Yurievich means your father’s name was Yuri right?” he said in perfect, if not accented, Russian.

Shocked, the boy simply nodded.

A cheshire grin spread across Katsuki’s face. “So you can be ‘Yurio’ while you’re here.”

The boy leapt into a flurry of protests about the new nickname. Jack couldn’t help but notice the slight glint in the other man’s eyes as if the idea of a rival excited him.

(But in the end the name didn’t stick.

“It would be too confusing having two ‘Yuri’s’.” Katsuki said.

“Thank you…” was the boy’s sigh of relief.

“You can be Edo instead.”

“What?! NO!”

That one did stick)

* * *

With two potential proteges, Jack found himself at a crossroads. He wanted to stick to his original conviction to bring back Katsuki’s passion for skating but so far all that had amounted to was wasted time and sexual frustration. But here was Edo, someone willing to learn, progress and grow. Someone that Jack could cultivate a legacy in, a way for Russia to secure its place at the top of the figure skating world. Katsuki even endorsed it. Between nights at the bar and days at the skating rink, the man had listed more reasons that Jack could even come up with for going back to Russia. But that was the easy way out.   

So Jack had the two skate off. One song with two different arrangements which he would choreograph for the each of them. In a month, they would showcase their progress and the winner would have the King.

 _In Regards to Love_ was a piece that Jack had been developing for himself for years. Based on his brief romantic stint, its duality was perfect for two.

For Edo, youthful and talented yet inexperience and naive, _Eros._

Cock tease Yuuri Katsuki got _Agape._

As expected, there was immediate protest. Katsuki was surprising vocal while Edo was left red and stuttering at the assignment.

Which was _exactly_ what the King wanted.

* * *

Yet, with the final presentation being merely a week away, Jack doubted that either of them would win.

Edo, though mastering all the technical aspects of the piece, lacked any sort of interpretation. It was like watch a robot programmed to skate. The boy’s age truly showed with no experience that could relate to sexual desire.

Katsuki, on the other hand, seemed to be constantly on edge. Though he was _finally_ skating, his mind was obviously elsewhere and he had begun to check his phone almost religiously.

“Focus.” Jack snapped as he saw Katsuki’s eyes grow distant mid-jump, leaving him in a messy touchdown. “ _Agape_ is unconditional love. Think of something that you care deeply for. Something that you will keep on giving no matter how little you’ll get in return.”

Katsuki glared at him, mouth open and ready to retort with barbed words when the sound of a cheery pop song rung through the rink. The man’s eyes widened as he dove for his bag, nearly bowling Edo over in the process.

Katsuki answered the call. Though Jack couldn’t catch the rapid Japanese, he noticed how Katsuki’s face split into a genuine smile, no ulterior motive lurking beyond the surface. The smile remained as he returned to the ice.

“Let’s go through the routine again.” Katsuki said, the innocent brightness starting to become unnerving.

(And he skated like a child. Not in a sense of skill but with the same pure wonder of someone discovering their love for the ice. It brought back memories of nights on a frozen lake, skating under the stars then skating alongside one.

When Yuuri Katsuki found his agape, Edik Yurievich stood no chance.)

* * *

Whatever that call had been, it had reignited Katsuki’s passion for skating. Though he spent less time in the rink, what time they had was spent on meaningful practise. Improving his skill, polishing his performance...this was the Katsuki that Jack had dropped his career for. That he had hoped to face on the ice the previous year.

When it came time to develop his free performance, Katsuki handed him a CD with Japanese characters scrawled across the surface.

_Yuri no Yuki, Kouri no Yuugou_

“Lily of Snow, Fusion of Ice?” Jack translated.

Katsuki laughed, as if there was a joke that was lost in translation. “An acquaintance composed it. I had planned to use it last year but she hadn’t quite finished it yet. It took her a while to musically describe my career.”

They listened to it together and Jack couldn’t help but think that it would be more appropriate two people rather than one.

(And Jack also noticed that Katsuki’s flirtatious behaviour had completely disappeared.)

* * *

Jack didn’t know when his protege stopped being ‘Katsuki’ and started becoming ‘Yuuri’ but he was certain it happened before he found the little imp in his bed.

Intercourse with Yuuri was purely physical. It was a constant struggle for dominance. It was sex, fucking, not making love. Their relationship was professional  some with benefits. Romance was an issue that neither of them wanted to think about.

(After all, it was obvious that their hearts belonged to someone other than the person they shared their bed with.)

(And one night, when they were both naked and Yuuri was sitting on top of Jack, he grabbed Jack’s hand and placed it over a fresh scar just above his hips.

“This is proof of my agape.” He whispered.)

* * *

In the end, despite the rocky start, Yuuri and Jack found themselves at the Grand Prix in Barcelona. Though Jack had spent most the season on the sidelines, the longing to be skating on the ice instead of just spectating was near overwhelming. And everyone could see it.

“So Mr Atlus, are you planning to continue coaching Yuuri Katsuki next season?” said Melissa Claire, the MC.

“Though you left, you are always welcomed to come back.” said Goodwin, his coach for his entire career.

“Wouldn’t be nice to see who could better command the audience?” said Andre, a hurdle from early in his career that he now wondered what about was so difficult about him.

“You still owe me a rematch.” said Dragan, the closest thing to a challenge in the recent years before Yuuri.

“I want a chance to show you up, Ivan Victorovich.” said ‘Edo’ Edik Yurievich, the boy who could be Russia’s next champion.

“Let’s end this here.” said Yuuri, the Japanese skater that had started this mess in the first place.

(“Is this what you really want?” said the other Japanese skater so many years ago when Jack sat at his lonely throne.)

* * *

Despite his general aloofness, Jack held a soft part in his soul for children. So when a pair of young twins run up to him asking to help, Jack couldn’t find it in his heart to refuse.

“This way! This way!” the energetic one dressed in red yelled, racing ahead of the man and his brother.

“Thank you, again.” the more sombre twin in black said. “I don’t think that we would have been able to do it ourselves.”

“Think nothing of it.” Jack said. “But isn’t there a ramp or elevator nearby?”

“There was a ramp but a car crashed into it and the elevator isn't working.” the boy explained. “My brother and I aren’t strong enough to push dad’s wheelchair up the stairs so we went to get you.”

“But wouldn’t it be better to ask one of the staff?” Jack asked. He couldn’t help but feel concerned about two little boys asking random strangers for help.

“Yes but you’re Jack Atlas.” the boy said plainly, as if ‘Jack Atlas’ was more of a job instead of a name.

(And sometimes it was.)

They found the father at the bottom of the staircase, scolding his other son.

“I told you that I would call your uncle.”

“But uncle’s competing.”

“His fault for not booking a ticket for your mother.”

“Not because you wanted to ‘fuck with that lazyass purple bastard’?”

“...please never repeat what I call your uncle.” The father then probably heard their footsteps because he began to turn his wheelchair to face them. “Thanks for bringing my boys back, I know they can be a handful and Rin’s normally the one wrang-” then he got a good look of the man his sons had brought. “Jack Atlas?!”

Jack as well was equally shocked. Not by the sudden exclamation, it was a common enough occurrence, but by the man’s face. “Yuuri?!”

* * *

Yuuri didn’t seemed at all fazed when they met him in the hallway. “So you met him.”

“Bastard! Why didn’t you tell me that _the Jack Atlas_ was your new coach?!” Yuuri’s ‘secret’ twin yelled.

“Oh, but it was all over the news, Yuugou.” Yuuri said, with that same smirk across his face which meant he was trying to stir some trouble.

“It’s Yuugo, not Yuugou! Besides, you know hospital TV has shit channels.”

“Really? Or was it that all you watched was reruns of Atlas’s performances?”

Yuugo immediately coloured. “Shut up! He’s right here!”

“But I wanted to tell him about posters…”

“Don’t you _dare_ start about the posters!”   
At this point the twins, Yuuya and Yuuto, grabbed Jack by either hand and led him away from the quarrelling brothers.

“They’re going to be like this for a while.” Yuto said.

“They normally don’t stop until mom or Aunt Selena hits them.” Yuya added. “Don’t know how they’re going to stop now.”

“Then shouldn’t we try to stop them?” Jack asked.

“Nope!” Both boys chorused. “This is the time we paid back dad for all the embarrassing things tells our friends.”

(And Jack learned that Yuugo Katsuki had idolised him since the start of his skating career, had basically used posters of him as wallpaper for his childhood room and had named the motorcycle he had built after him.

Jack learned about the accident on said motorcycle that had left Yuugo paralyzed from waist down.)

* * *

“So your brother?” Jack said as Yuuri was about assume his starting position.

“My brother.” He confirmed, as if that answered any and all questions.

(And it did. Jack had questioned when someone as lazy and unmotivated as Yuuri Katsuki announced that his skating theme would be ‘Sacrifice’. But…

Agape was an unconditional love. Yuuri’s entire career had been built on giving his brother a chance to skate when he lost his legs and he was willing to throw it all away for him.

‘Turning innards’ hadn’t been a metaphor for anxiety.)

(In comparison…)

* * *

“If things had turned out differently, where would you be?”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow at the question. “A little philosophical for this situation, don’t you agree?” he said as his hands wandered downwards. There was gold around his neck and after this they would be going their separate ways. “But if I must...Yuugo would be the one skating and I would be dead.”

“A bit morbid much.” Jack said, taking a quick nip at Yuuri’s ear earning a slight moan.  

“But that was how it should have been. Gardening was my thing, figure skating was his.” Yuuri threw his arms around Jack’s neck and straddling his waist. “What about you?”

The question was so open ended that Jack had been surprised when Yuuri answered so quickly. But now when it was aimed at him, one particular moment came to mind. “I would have caught a shooting star.”

* * *

_“What really makes you happy?”_

_“Gold.”_

_But what he should have said was “You.”_

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you think that this is too much for T, tell me and I'll fix it up.  
> Otherwise, hope you enjoyed.


End file.
